The Secret Heart (Sequel to The Secret Garden)
by Perspective Provider
Summary: Six years have passed and now Mary, Colin, and Dickon have all grown up, but remained as close as ever. As the war wages on though, the three friends will be torn apart, brought together in new ways, learn to hate, learn to love, and ultimately become new adults, each in their own way. Rated T for subtle content, but may get to M in some later chapters.
1. 1- Reunion

**-A/N-**

The reason that I'm choosing to write a _Secret Garden_ fanfiction is because it remains one of my favourite books of all time, definitely my favourite chapter book as a child, and, thanks to the romanticized 1993 movie version of the same name, it's opened up some new perspectives for me in terms of a sequel. The title, though corny, is something that is suited to the story I have in mind, and of course a play on words with regards to the original title.

I realize that the fanbase for this novel and/or movie isn't exactly the largest, but since I know there are others out there, like me, that love the book, and if there's some chance that those people would like to read a sequel, then I intend to provide it for them. For those who will be reading along with me as I write this, your support is deeply appreciated, so please make yourself known through either a review, follow, or perhaps favourite.

With regards to the content of the story, I will be incorporating elements from both the book and movie, though mostly from the book. If you already have a detailed understanding of both, then you'll be able to determine where all the details come from, but if not, it shouldn't be hard to follow along either way. Of course, I'll also be adding in my own little details and OCs, but that's what makes a fanfiction a fanfiction, in some ways. Also, I've decided to rate this T for some mature content, although there will be eventual smut in the story. I will make sure to post warnings for that, of course, so you can choose to read that at your own risk. Other than that though, I'll be keeping some of the original innocent elements of the story alive.

All in all, please enjoy, and thank you to those in advance that will be showing support for this story.

* * *

 **1 - Reunion**

 ** _Misselthwaite Manor_ , August 1917**

Mary Lennox was nearing her sixteenth birthday when it happened—when Colin Craven, her cousin who was already sixteen, and growing up to be stronger, handsomer, and more lively than ever, brought home a professional telescope, purchased for him in London by his father, Lord Archibald Craven, and soon to be the wonder of many of the simple folks of northern Yorkshire.

The telescope was made of gold, positively radiant on the outside and, though heavy, Colin insisted on carrying it inside Misselthwaite all by himself to show to Mary. It was, as his father suspected, merely another display of his to prove that he was healthy, strong, and growing up to be a man that everyone could be proud of, and so he let him do it, but not without lingering at a close distance as Colin carried it up the stairs to Mary's room.

Mary, at this time, was preoccupied with reading _Jane Eyre_ , a book whose protagonist (as far as she could tell within the first five chapters or so) was an orphaned girl not much unlike how she used to be, except in that she was poor, lived with abusive cousins and a horrid aunt, and was sent to a boarding school. Mary herself, despite Mrs. Medlock's suggestions to the contrary, had been educated solely at Misseltwaite by private tutors, Lord Craven feeling it unbearable to have any more of his family go out of his life. To him, Mary was like an angel, practically a reincarnation of the happiness in his life which had long left him since his Lily has perished, and he loved her like his own daughter. Of course, her help in curing Colin and opening up the secret garden, now a domain only for themselves and the Sowerbys, also played a part in encouraging this affection, but Mary's growing kindness was also a welcome presence in the large, lonely house.

Now, as he entered her room and saw her glance curiously over to Colin's newest "magic" experiment, he couldn't help but smile. That summer, he and Colin had gone off to London for two weeks alone, Colin insisting on learning more about the manufacturing business, something he'd grown quite interested in. Because, much as the young master knew that he could be sustained by his father's wealth, his inheritance, for his entire life, after watching Dickon he had become convinced that an honest living was also a necessary thing to have. Thus, while he wasn't studying to someday go to university, the Young Master Craven sought out personal experiences outside of Misselthwaite. This left the young Mistress Mary alone of course, but she never felt lonely.

"Good afternoon Colin, Uncle Archie," she greeted, rising up to greet them. Immediately, she went and embraced her elderly guardian, lingering to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek as she always did, and then went to embrace Colin. The young master's arms lingered around her for a second longer after she had let go, then he turned and gestured to the contraption in front of them.

"What do you think?" he asked proudly. "I had it specially made to bring back with us. It cost father a couple of hundred pounds, but I know that it will be worth it once we set it up tonight."

"What's it supposed to do?" asked Mary, who had never seen a telescope before.

"It's for seeing the stars up close," Colin explained. "I have a book about it in my library. I'll show it to you tonight before dinner and then we can go over how to set it up. I thought that the meadow out back, beyond forest on the moor would be the perfect place to set it up."

"Not tonight, Colin," Lord Craven cut in. "I'm afraid that it's going to rain tonight, and aside from which, we also need our rest. We have had a long journey today."

Colin furrowed his brow in disappointment, much like he did when he was a young boy of ten, but didn't argue. "Very well," he mumbled.

Lord Craven kissed both his son and his niece on the forehead, and then called for servants to come and transport the telescope to Master Colin's chamber. Colin was about to protest this, until Mary attracted his attention and suggest that they go out to the gardens. Colin took this to mean that she wanted to go to a very _special_ garden, and was more than willing to oblige.

"I do believe I have missed it," he professed, once they were outside and in the privacy of the gardens. Mary was leading the way like she always did, the key clenched in her hand and her breath hitching slightly as they turned the corner and came upon the ivy-walled path. It gave her a thrill every time she came there, despite coming so very often, just as it had the first time. The robin who had showed her the way was no more, having lived out his lifespan content and happy, but now many robins, his kin, inhabited the garden and added to its life.

"You've only been gone two weeks," Mary laughed, although in truth she too would have missed it after such a short time. Every summer until she was thirteen, Lord Craven had taken both her and Colin to places like Belgium and Sweden, and there shown them beautiful forests and beaches, and in places like Germany, Italy, and France, grand estates, but nothing, _nothing_ could compare to their secret garden. That was where all the magic was, although of course Mary had learned that magic could be found anywhere if you only knew how to look hard enough.

But then, just one month after their visit to Normandy, war had broken out, and ever since then their vacations had been limited to places in Great Britain. Mary hadn't cared as much for the cooler temperatures of Scotland, although she more than adored Ireland and places in southern England. The truth was, in many ways she was still more accustomed to warmer climates and temperatures because of India, although she considered herself to be a true "Yorkshire lass". _"After all, the best of me life's been lived here,"_ she had remarked to Martha Sowerby when she (Mary) was fourteen. _"Doesn't tha think so?"_ Martha, of course, ever ready to humor her mistress, had given her usual broad smile and nothing else.

Other than a change in vacation plans though, the war had not impacted Mary much, as both Colin and Dickon had thus far been too young to contribute to England's service. With Dickon's eighteenth birthday passed in March though, it was only a matter of time before not even the vastness of the moor could protect him from being enlisted.

Naturally though, the cousins didn't discuss this, as Colin had just returned home and they had a lot to make up for in their two weeks of absence.

"Here it is. Open the door, Mary," Colin said, once they reached the familiar ivy-covered portion of the wall, beyond which lay the door to all the peace, joy, and magic they could find in the world.

"Welcome home," whispered Mary, and then she disappeared into the ivy, turned the key in the lock, and motioned for Colin to come in after her.

The impact upon entering was just the same as it had always been. Here, there, and everywhere were splashes of colour, and scents of every flower that the moor could boast, and bees and birds and insects and plants full of life, rising up out of the earth in the evening as if to give a greeting to the Young Master Craven, shortly before retiring. It was then, upon noticing the dimming of the natural light, that Colin truly realized that it was growing late, and that they would have to leave just as soon as they'd come if they didn't want all the servants in the house out looking for them.

"It looks the same as it always does. Nothing can ever die here," Colin sighed, brushing his hand over one of the roses covering the walls, the roses which his mother had so loved.

"It gives one the feeling of living forever and ever," Mary remarked, smiling as she glanced sideways at Colin.

"Yes," Colin agreed. "Although, I should feel that everything's alright in the world even if I did die here—then I know I could go to heaven."

Mary blinked uncertainly, for a moment at a loss for what to say. "What makes you talk of dying?" she asked, wondering why he had steered the conversation in such a direction. Was he—?

"No, I'm alright, Mary. It's just that I've seen a different side of the world than what we've both been used to, these past two weeks, and...Mary, you know that there's a war going on right now."

"I don't want to talk about it." Mary turned away from him, preparing to leave. With her days indoors spent on either reading books or studying, and her days outdoors spent in the gardens or out on the moor, she didn't want to preoccupy herself with matters of the outside world, with war. Even as a child, she wasn't used to having unpleasantness thrown at her, but rather the other way around, always getting her way, and so since the concept of a war displeased her, she had rather avoid it altogether rather than acknowledge it as a reality. It had nothing to do with her, so why should she put it into any notice?

"You must know about it though, Mary," Colin insisted, not taking the hint. "Everyone knows about it, even if they don't talk about it much around here. In London, almost everyone's talking about it, and even in business, they're saying that the only business now _is_ war. Out of all the factories and companies I've gone to see, at least four out of every five of them is working on something to aid the war effort. And the hospitals! Oh, Mary, there are—"

"I said that I don't want to talk about it!" Mary exclaimed, turning back in a huff to face him. Just like Colin sometimes did, she was expressing behaviors that were still quite childlike in nature, showing just how much growing she still had to do as well. In body, she had gained all of her feminine parts, with very little left to the imagination. As Mrs. Medlock and Martha and about everyone else had guessed, she _had_ retained some of her mother's beauty, especially now that her sour expression was (mostly) gone, but emotionally she still had aways to go.

"Why not?!" asked Colin, growing impatient as well. He and Mary often got along on most subjects, but sometimes, when she so blatantly refused him like she was doing now, he too reverted back to his old ways of throwing tantrums, until it became a matter of who could scream the loudest rather than present the most suitable argument.

"Why do you want to talk about it?!" Mary's bottom lip quivered after she spoke this, and Colin noticed that there were tears in her eyes. His anger quickly diminished, he reached out and put an arm around her shoulders.

"Dear, what is it?" he asked, addressing her kindly so as to let her know that he had no wish to contradict her anymore—how could he, with her about to cry?

Sniffing lightly and trying to keep the tears from coming, still too proud to let them fall despite having learned how to cry since coming to Misselthwaite, Mary gave the best answer she could. "I know more about war than you may think," she said. "This spring, Master Lawrence"—her tutor—"began teaching me about the history of war. He advised me to search for patterns, and had barely got around to instructing me on _this_ war before I had Uncle Archie dismiss him. I couldn't stand it anymore by that point, but I did learn a thing or two regardless. One of those things is that those who usually talk about war as you do are...those who want to get involved in some way."

Colin's eyes widened in surprise as he tried to draw conclusions from what she was telling him. "So you...were worried about me?" he breathed.

Mary nodded. "How could I not be? You're my cousin!"

Colin had to admit that he did feel a proud swell in his breast when he heard that, but he couldn't exactly be content with the knowledge that he'd saddened his cousin. Lifting up his finger to her chin, he made her face him, his eyes staring intently into hers. "Don't worry about me. I'm not going anywhere," he said.

"Really?"

"Really." The assurance made Mary exhale shakily. She was calming down, albeit slowly, and even beginning to regain some of her natural calm.

"I am glad," she said. "I want you to stay, always. All of us here, together."

"Where else would I go?" Colin asked, now joking with her. He neither removed his arm from around her shoulders though, nor his hand from where it rested under her chin. "I'm only sixteen—there's two years to go before they'll take me, even if I crawl on my knees to them."

Mary couldn't stifle a laugh, which Colin joined in on. Neither of them could _ever_ imagine the proud Young Master Craven on his knees before anyone.

"I am glad," Mary repeated. "So glad."

"Me too," Colin replied, and then both of them noticed how close they were standing to each other. Colin didn't move, but Mary did, removing herself from his touch and shattering the one moment of awkwardness between them. Only, for Colin, it had been a moment of magic almost as beautiful as the garden itself.

"We should go back inside," Mary observed, and then looked up at the sky. "It's just as Uncle Archie said—it's going to rain soon."

Colin nodded, but didn't say a word as he followed her back to the house.

They locked the garden door and they left everything untouched, preparing instead to spend the next few days inside perhaps. Colin didn't know why exactly, but he suddenly felt twice as glad as before to be back home, and not only because he had missed the garden and Mary. Yes, he had missed both of those, but after that brief moment with Mary, coupled with her ardent concern of him, he felt something that he had never felt before. It was similar to what he had felt many years back when Mary had first come to him and began telling him stories, giving him a spark of life and hope to hold on to, but this time it was stronger. Instead of a spark, Colin felt as though it was a burning flame.

 _Is this also some sort of magic?_ Colin wondered, always ready to experiment some more and find out more about the magic in the world. And yet, for once, this was magic that he would rather indulge in for more than just experimental reasons. Truly, it was something new, and something stronger than anything he had ever felt before. What was it—what was it?

* * *

 **-End Note-**

As many of you are probably aware of by now, _yes_ , this aspect of Colin's "magic" towards the end is taken more from the movie than the book, but only because I need a romantic element to get this story going. In the book, the garden itself was the most important element, and I'll be sure to incorporate it at appropriate parts in the story, but with all the characters maturing, I logically assume that they emotions will be maturing as well. For Mary and Colin, I thought it necessary to show the parallel between how, as sixteen year-olds, they still are immature in some ways, although Colin, after what he's experienced in London (which will be elaborated upon in future chapters), will start to mature a bit faster. Nowadays, I know it's not often the case that boys will mature faster than girls, but I feel that back then, society really compelled people to mature, giving men the opportunities and priorities to do so over women—after all, our dear Alice Paul didn't win the vote for women until 1920. So, overall, that's my reasoning behind the beginning of Colin's new emotions.

For anyone who's missing Dickon, Martha, and other characters, don't worry, they'll also be coming soon, but I wanted to get a focus on the family dynamic and a bit of the historical background of the story before I started including more characters. This is only the first chapter, so I don't think that it should be too overwhelming. I hope you enjoyed it regardless though, and, once again, please show support through an option that allows. Thank you and onward to the next chapter!


	2. 2- A Change

**-A/N-**

Thank you to those who have shown support for this fanfiction thus far—it truly encourages me to write more and keep up the story! Of course, I cannot meet all expectations, but I certainly hope that what I do come up with isn't disappointing.

Pairing-wise with romantic relationships, I think I should establish now that I haven't as of yet decided who's going to end up with who. Now, Mary, as our main character, is not going to end up with an OC or anything because, much as that could be what the author originally had in mind, if she had gone on to write a sequel, it would not be interesting as a story overall, I think. After all, from what material is out there, the audience only feels a special connection to Colin and Dickon, and thus the introduction of an OC love interest for Mary to end up with permanently wouldn't mean as much. So, yes, either Colin or Dickon is going to end up with Mary in the end, but as of yet I am undecided as to whom that will be.

Also, for those of you who are wondering, _yes_ , unfortunately, World War I is going to play a role in this story—if that wasn't already implied in the first chapter. Because, as isolated as they are meant to be, I feel that our characters must also get involved in some way, as they make up part of England. It's unavoidable, and also gives me as a writer a lot to work with.

Now, with all that out of the way, once again, please enjoy the chapter.

* * *

 **2 - A Change**

At dinner that night, despite their efforts to be animated and entertaining, it was clear that neither Lord Craven nor Master Colin had much energy left after their day of travel. Their conversation at dinner did reveal some of the less serious goings-on that they had experienced in London, including a description of the shops where they had gone to purchase Mary's birthday presents, and of course Colin's new telescope, much to the delight of Mary, who was not interested in hearing war-related details. The conversation and brief moment of closeness between her and Colin the garden was quickly forgotten, as she escorted first her uncle and then her cousin to their bedchambers, lingering only in Colin's at his request.

The Young Rajah, still in his dinner clothes, sat down on his sofa near the fire, gestured for Mary to take her usual seat next to him, and then clasped her hand, looking the same way as he had when Mary came to visit him after they first met—excited yet cautious.

"Mary, would you sing me one of your lullabies from India?" he implored her. Those always soothed him the best and, after a day of such excitement, despite feeling his body ache with tiredness, Colin felt himself wide awake.

"Of course," Mary said, soothing her skirts with her free hand. "Which one do you want?"

"Any one," Colin pressed, leaning back against the back of the sofa and closing his eyes.

And so Mary began to sing in a low, sad way, reciting the lyrics in Hindi that she knew so well. In English, they translated to a story about the birds of the jungle in India, and about how, one day, a tiger had caught a bird in its mouth after it had been flying too low, and that the moral of the story was that to fly high was the only way to be safe and free.

As she finished, she glanced over to Colin and, thinking that he was asleep, prepared to detach her hand from his, when suddenly he stirred a bit and tightening his grip on her fingers. "Beautiful," he murmured, his eyes still closed and sounding very tired indeed.

"Colin, you need to go to sleep," Mary encouraged.

Colin gave a sigh. "Yes, I suppose so. Will I...see you tomorrow? Will you go into the garden with me?"

Mary smiled. "Yes, Colin. I'll call Dickon too, and then we can all go together."

She left the Young Master Craven smiling that night.

* * *

As promised, that night consisted of heavy rain and thunder and lightning, one of the most intense storms to ever hit Misselthwaite. Mrs. Medlock, whilst passing through the halls on her last watch for the night, even remarked to herself that it was "the most dreadful tempest the moor's seen yet!"

Thankfully though, it was over before morning, and Mistress Mary, upon waking, knew that the earth would be fresh and damp and would smell just wonderful once they entered the garden—oh, how happy Colin would be!

But then, upon skipping through the halls by herself to go and fetch her cousin, she suddenly almost collided with the individual that she least expected to meet so early after sunrise—Dickon! Stopping herself, but just barely, Mary would have fallen over if only the redheaded young man didn't reach out and steady her. His face far more mature than when they had first met in childhood, the roundness of its shape gone, yet with his eyes and mouth still as wide as ever, Dickon was one of the handsomest young men that had ever been seen in Yorkshire, though still full of some of his "queer" ways. For, although he no longer had animal companions walking or flying about him every minute of the day, he could still speak the language of the animals and coax plants to grow like no one else could. Throughout the two weeks that her family had been away, he had been Mary's constant companion, but even she would never have called him to the manor that early!

"Dickon! What a surprise!" the young mistress exclaimed, smiling uncertainly. "I was just about to go and wake Colin and thought that perhaps we'd meet in the garden."

Dickon returned the smile, though not as widely as he usually would have, and then blinked in surprise when she mentioned Colin. "Oh, that's right! Master Craven an' Master Colin are back now!" he exclaimed.

Mary nodded. "Yes, they arrived just yesterday—didn't you know? Surely your mother or someone else might have been their coach passing by?" After all, it wasn't easy to keep secrets out on the moor—no secrets except those of the animals and the secret garden, of course.

"No, I'd been called to th' town yesterday, so I didn't get a chance to," Dickon admitted. "How are they?"

"Tired, but managing. Oh, Dickon, I just know that Colin will have so many splendid things to tell us!" Hopefully things not war-related, of course.

Dickon's smile vanished and his face became serious. "I'm afraid that I won't be stayin' long enough to hear 'em. I've got to get ready to go to London soon."

Mary furrowed her brow, her smile vanishing as well. "To London?"

Dickon nodded. "Aye. I...where's Martha? I need to talk to her."

"S-she might still be asleep," faltered Mary. "What is it you need to tell her, Dickon? Is it something that I could know?"

"I-I don't want to upset tha', Miss Mary. Please—does tha' think she might be down in th' kitchens?"

"I'm not sure. G-go ahead and look," Mary said, gesturing. Though composed on the outside, on the inside she felt positively raw. Something was not right.

* * *

By lunchtime, everything was out in the open, and everyone at Misselthwaite and even in the nearby town knew what was going to happen: Dickon Sowerby had been enlisted in the army, via conscription, and was expect to report to London no later than at the end of August, a week from when he had first received notice.

From when he had decided to tell Martha first, trying to spare his mother the upset, the news had spread like wildfire, arriving along with Colin's lunch to his bedchamber. The Young Master Craven's first instinct was to send for Mary, who arrived looking rather torn and almost as sour as the night before in the garden. Earlier that day, she had decided against going to wake up her cousin to go the garden, as Dickon would not be there anyway, and had instead confined herself to her room, there waiting for further news. Only, unfortunately, as Martha was her main servant, the news of Dickon's enlistment had come with her breakfast instead of with lunch, and so she was already aware of what Colin had to tell her once she arrived in his room.

Colin, having spent his morning contentedly fiddling with his new telescope, now also cast it aside for other things, knowing that he would have to comfort Mary regarding the bad news. "Good afternoon, Mary," he said, gesturing for her to take a seat, if she liked. When Mary did not please to do so, Colin, who judged by her expression that she already knew the news, proceeded to ask her how she felt.

Her lower lip trembling slightly, Mary sank down onto one of the cushions that Colin had arranged on the floor whilst working on his telescope. Glancing from it to the sofa and then to other piece of furniture wistfully, Mary just shook her head. "I didn't know," she said. "When I met Dickon this morning, I didn't know what had happened; just that he said that he didn't want to upset me. Well, he was right in thinking that this news would—it certainly does!"

Colin wasn't certain whether or not she was going to cry but, unwilling to risk it, he handed her a handkerchief as he sat down beside her. Unable to find words to cheer her up immediately, instead he tried to help resign her to the fact that it was reality—that they might have both expected it.

"You see, Mary—it's just as I've told you," he said, caressing her clenched hands slowly. "Now, it's all about the war, what everyone says and does. It's gotten so big from when it started Mary, so that now no one, not even we, can avoid it. Don't you see? Don't you understand?"

"I only understand that I hate it," Mary said, clenching her teeth. However, she didn't dare move away from Colin—she needed all the feelings of closeness with those that she loved right now, and didn't want to lose it as well.

"I know, but what can we do?" Colin asked, unsure how to proceed beyond that. Because, after all, it was usually others comforting _him_ , not the other way around.

"We can keep Dickon here," suggested Mary, completely serious.

"No, we couldn't. They'd come and get him," said Colin, but then, thinking it over, added, "Or, at the very least, we'd get in trouble for it. The army's not something you can avoid, Mary, and once they want something, well...

"You remember how last night you wouldn't listen to me about what I've experience in London? Well, I've got to tell you now, so that you'll understand. There, whether managers, factory owners, manufacturers, or even nobles want to get involved in the war or not, they have to. I've met people who positively love this war, because they can make a profit out of it as well as be called 'honourable' for helping the country. But then, there's also people who hate this war just as much as you do, and who just want it to stop, to disappear, or to turn back time and go to a better place. Don't you see? There are all kinds of people involved in this war, Mary, but in the end, no one really has a choice anymore—it's just something bigger than us, all of us, now."

Mary listened carefully, though avoided eye-contact, and then remained silent for a moment, thinking things over. Finally, she said, "What's this war even about, really?" As a literal reason, she knew, and as did everyone, that the death of a certain Austrian archduke was what had started it all, but now, was that _really_ was it was all about anymore? To Mary, no reason could provide sufficient justification for the war uprooting everyone's lives the way it had, forcing people to become soldiers against their will, and then sending them out to fight and kill. Dickon, as she well realized, was physically strong and able to do anything that the army might require of him but, if things were really as bad as she had heard about from her tutor and the occasional newspaper, then would Dickon, her poor, sweet Dickon, really be capable of doing such horrible things?

"It's about everything and it's about nothing," Colin replied, feeling that it was the only sincere answer he could give.

Mary nodded, turning and burying her face in his shoulder. For the second time in two days, she desperately felt like crying, for the same reason, and yet was embarrassed to do so where anyone might see.

Colin, on the other hand, again felt that same sort of "magic" as he had the night before in the secret garden, feeling Mary press so close to him, but wasn't able to focus on it or investigate it further, given how wretched his cousin must be feeling at that moment. Just as before though, Mary was the first to pull herself away, having composed herself enough to stand up, a new look of determination on her face.

"I must go and see Dickon," she announced.

"Why?" Oh goodness, she wasn't actually going through with her plan to keep Dickon with them, with force if necessary, was she?

Mary set her mouth in a grim line. "I want to make him promise something. I know that he has to go, but...if he could just stay along enough until my sixteenth birthday next week, then perhaps it will be easier to—"

But she never finished her sentence, instead turning and fleeing from the room. Colin watched after her helplessly, feeling strangely empty now that she was gone.

* * *

When Mary found Dickon, it seemed as though he'd been getting ready to leave, crossing through the gardens as a shortcut to get to the forest, and then out on the moor, heading home. Mary didn't think to question why he should feel the need to leave so early, given that he hadn't spent any time with her that day, and certainly not a great deal of time with Martha, and instead just called out after him over and over again until he heard her and stopped.

Out of breath by the time she caught up to him, Mary took an extra minute to calm down, and then faced him with an expression full of longing and of sadness. "Dickon, I know," she breathed. "Oh, I know!"

Dickon nodded slowly, looking just as sad. "I know it, Miss Mary. I would have done anything to spare tha', but I suppose that secrets aren't easy to keep at Misselthwaite."

"Not _all_ secrets," Mary reminded him. After all, there were few people who knew about their garden even to that day. Of course they knew, along with the Cravens, Ben Weatherstaff, and Mrs. Sowerby and even Martha, but it still counted as a secret to Mary, given that they sometimes had to sneak around so as to get to the garden and then back again.

Dickon ventured a small smile. "Aye, not all secrets," he agreed.

"Dickon, I have come to speak to you about that—when must you leave?"

"A week from today, I must already be in London."

"But...until then?"

Dickon blinked. "I hadna' really decided yet, I suppose. I was thinkin' o' stayin' home w' Mother, an' helpin' her keep house. I'm not as good as Martha, o' course, but I can still do some work."

"Oh, Dickon, but tha'...tha' will be able to stay for me birthday, won't tha'?" Mary asked.

As usual, he was endeared by the girl whenever she made efforts to use Yorkshire to communicate, and couldn't help reaching out to cup her cheek. "Aye, I'll stay," he replied after a moment of silence, and then reluctantly pulling his hand away. The touch had lighted within him that same feeling of "magic" like within Colin, only Dickon knew how to better realize what it was. As for Mary, she did her own fair share of blushing at the contact.

"P-promise me?" she asked. "I want us all to be together on that day. It's my special day."

Dickon nodded. "I promise." Mary's birthday was only five days away, after all, so he could leave right after it was over and still make it to London on time.

"We must all be together," Mary said, both to Dickon and to herself. "Even if just once that one day, we must all be together—in the garden!"

* * *

 **-End Note-**

Whew! Yes, I know, it's all a lot more overwhelming now, but definitely called for to get the story going after the first introductory chapter. (Although, I'm not sure how well the "blitzkrieg effect" really works.)

Also, although I'm not sure if anyone minds this, I'd like to apologize that this chapter is written more in short snippets of events rather than lengthier discussions or descriptions, but I don't think that anything gets too confusing, given that it's all happening in short chronological order.

And, while I understand the possibility that not everyone may be on board for taking Dickon away from Misselthwaite so soon, it just didn't seem logical to leave him there when, even in the US and Canada as of 1917, they started drafting/conscripting soldiers rather than waiting for volunteers. In other words, he's eighteen, the army considers that he's fit to fight, and thus they jump at the chance to have him. (Although, strictly speaking, even that's not entirely accurate as conscription was introduced in Britain in 1916 for single males aged 18 - 54, and, as Dickon in this story would've turned 18 in March, technically the army's already five months late in claiming him. Obviously, I'm _really_ altering some things in history so as to suit my purpose.)

All in all though, I hope that this was as enjoyable a chapter as the first (if not more so), and, to show further support, I encourage the readers to please either review, follow, or perhaps even favourite. Just as the support for the first chapter encouraged me to continue on writing, in the same way it will be on and on for every chapter, until a (hopefully) satisfying finish.


	3. 3 - Preparations

**-A/N-**

Wow, the support for this story sure has grown in recent times! Thank you to everyone who's either followed or reviewed this fanfiction so far; it really does a lot to encourage me to write more! Of course, as always, the silent readers are invited to step up and make their presence known as well.

For anyone who checks this story for updates, but may not have seen the message I recently posted at the top of my profile, I would like you to know that this chapter is the last update for the month of July, as I am headed to Europe on the 8th, and will not be back until August 2nd. My internet connection will be very limited there, and expensive, so I will not have the means to update even during my free time. Apologies for this of course, especially as I've just gotten started on this fanfiction, but I can promise that the pace of updating will be constant throughout all of August and then hopefully later on, so please bear with me for the month of July and do not abandon the fanfiction as a whole, because I have not.

This chapter below will be the most lengthy one I have written for this story yet, and so hopefully it will be good enough to satisfy readers until I return. Sincerely, I hope that you enjoy!

* * *

 **3 - Preparations**

The promise that Dickon had made her was the only thing that kept Mary calm and settled in the days that followed. For, if not for the assurance that she would be able to see him again and enjoy a few more moments with him in the garden before he left, she would have to go through the unpleasantness of seeing him come and go from the manor like a stranger, each time with yet more news concerning what he would need for when he left for London. The day was growing nearer, Mary knew, but because her own birthday was just before that, she felt certain that it wouldn't be so hard for her to see him off.

It was a good thing that the army did not allow for many personal belongings from each soldier, for Dickon, as a poor boy from the moor, didn't have many possessions to begin with. Most of what he loved was plants and wildlife, neither of which he could take with him. Still, at Medlock, Martha, and Mrs. Sowerby's insistence, he paid several visits to Misselthwaite over the next few days, either to deliver messages between the women, or to continue discussions with Lord Craven, who had offered to supply him with passage all the way to London.

"It is the least I can do for him after all he has done for us," he said upon making the offer, thinking back to how large a role Dickon had played in helping Colin to walk and become healthy. Like for Mary, Colin, and everyone else who had found out, he had been saddened at the news that Dickon was called to war, but not surprised by it. For, having seen much more in London than even Colin had, he knew how desperately the army needed more recruits and just how bad the war had gotten. What was supposed to have ended the Christmas after it began had now extended to lasting almost two years, because neither side could advance and gain an advantage. From what he had heard, it was just one long line of troops and battalions, right down the length of France and Normandy. When it had come, he had not been a supporter of the cause and had refused to take part, but now, with the disastrous results, he couldn't so much as find it in himself to laugh at those who had greeted it with a "Raw! Raw!" spirit. There was no room for laughter anymore—there just wasn't.

Still, determined to make the best of it at Mary's birthday, he decided to discuss the matter with Dickon during his last private visit, the evening before the festivities were to take place.

"Sit down, lad. You're no longer a stranger here, so there's no need to be so formal," he greeted, seeing Dickon standing by the open doorway with his hat in his hands as always, a symbol of humility.

"Thank you, sir," Dickon said, taking the offered seat. "But sir, I dunna understand why tha' has called me here tonight. We are sure of the arrangements."

"You haven't said anything to anyone though, correct?" Lord Craven asked. For, due to necessity of having Dickon there the _morning_ after Mary's birthday, he would be leaving midway through the party instead of at dawn the next day—needless to say, it would dampen everyone's spirits greatly, and as such, they had agreed to keep it a secret until the end.

"No sir," Dickon replied. "I haven't even told me mother—I think she knows anyway though, jus' won't say anything about it."

Lord Craven nodded. He might've known that Susan Sowerby was already aware of everything, despite not being told—sometimes, he wasn't certain if maybe that woman didn't have supernatural powers of some kind, almost like the secret garden. "That's good, lad. I wouldn't want to upset Mary, after all." Colin however, for some reason, didn't seem to be as perturbed by the news of Dickon's upcoming departure. His father wasn't certain if it was because Colin had already accepted the truth of the world for what it was or not, but, in any case, he sensed that it wasn't Colin whom would need comforting after Dickon was gone.

"Now, I hope not to be rude, Dickon, but...have you gotten Mary a present for her birthday yet?"

Dickon coloured just a bit. "Well sir, I canna afford anything too fancy or expensive, but I did get Miss Mary something that I think she'll like," he confessed.

Lord Craven nodded, shifting awkward. "Yes, I see. Forgive my inquiry, but it's just that...I want her to have something to remember you by, if...well, if you should—"

"I understand, sir," Dickon assured him. "Trust me, I've had it all figured out for a while now. I will give Miss Mary something that she can always remember an' always treasure."

Relaxing, Lord Craven gave another nod. "Very well, then. I only hope that you do not think badly of me for having thought to ask."

"Not at all, sir."

"Thank you. Then...you may leave. I shall see you tomorrow in the garden."

Dickon nodded and stood, preparing to make his departure, but then stopped for a moment at the doorway and faced Lord Craven, appearing for the first time like a grown man instead of the young boy that the rich gentleman had known. "Sir, I would appreciate if tha' would write me about Miss Mary an' Colin once I'm gone. It's just that Martha's not so good with letters, an' I didn't think it too bright to ask Mrs. Medlock. Tha' understands, sir. An', well, I feel as though Mary'd only sound better than she is in her letters, an' I wouldn't be alright asking her in too much detail, tha' knows."

For the first time that evening, Lord Craven smiled. "I understand, Dickon, and I shall do so when I can. But...you see, the truth is, though I do not want to, I may soon be called down to London as well."

Dickon's eyes widened. "To fight, sir?"

Lord Craven shook his head and held up a patient hand. "No, Dickon, I am too old for that, only I am also too rich _not_ to donate or give to the cause, and I've been holding out long enough. As it is, I found out some very interesting things down in London these previous weeks—things that I intend to keep secret from the children. Needless to say, for both my interests and the interests of my family, I may have to go. I'm only telling you this because...well, I've been wanting to tell someone, and if the animals on the moor can trust you with even their fondest secrets, then surely I can trust you."

"Aye sir, tha' can trust me. Me lips is sealed, upon me life I swear it."

"Once again, thank you, Dickon. You truly are heaven-sent. You know, although I think it a pity for you to leave us and have to join the army at all, I certainly hope that you can make some of the men in your regiment happy—remind them about the good things in life, if nothing else."

For a moment it seemed as though Dickon's eyes sparkled with tears at the words of high praise that he received from Lord Craven, but then their moment of tenderness was gone as Medlock of all people came in unannounced, apparently with news of some of the last minute preparations for Mary's birthday. Giving a short bow, Dickon finally took his leave, but he did not forget the advice that Lord Craven had given him. He knew that there would be a hard time ahead of him, and yet...he hoped to look back on his times at Misselthwaite to help him through what would be hardest. And, if he could just celebrate Mary's birthday with her tomorrow and manage to leave without having to see the sadness he'd caused everyone, then he knew that he would have something to hold on to for however long he had to be gone. It would all give him a reason to fight, not for the country or to win the war, but to come back to what and whom he loved.

* * *

On the day of her sixteenth birthday, when Mary woke up, she could hardly believe that it had come so soon. And, for once, her excitement was bittersweet, as she knew that it would be the last day that she would be able to spend with Dickon in the garden, the last time that their family of secret-holders would be complete. Other than the Cravens and Dickon himself, Martha and Susan Sowerby would be there, and of course Ben Weatherstaff. There would be an earlier celebration in the house along with the servants, during which time Mary would get to blow out the candles to her birthday cake and open presents, but afterwards, in private, the Cravens planned to cut up a few slices of cake to bring with them to the garden, after which they would steal away from the house with orders not to be disturbed, and meet everyone else in the garden. That was when the _real_ celebration would begin, Mary thought.

"Good morning, miss," she heard a familiar voice greeting her, and sat upright in bed so as to beam down at Martha, who, as usual, had her breakfast already prepared. "Happy Birthday," the maid added, upon seeing her mistress's bright face.

Mary smiled. "Good morning to you as well, Martha, and thank you," she said. "Help me get dressed first and then I shall eat."

Martha gave one of her characteristic wide smiles, those that resembled Dickon's so much, and went over to the wardrobe. "What does tha' want to wear today?"

"Not black," Mary replied, making a face as she remembered the first time that Martha had ever asked her that question.

Giggling, Martha selected a beautiful pink lace dress with white ribbons, tying the more difficult ones at the back while Mary stood still and allowed her to do her work. By now, Mary had accustomed herself to wearing a corset, but had decided not to wear one today as it would be tiring enough having to be the center of attention all day without having the breath squeezed out of her to boot.

"Isn't everyone waiting for me downstairs?" she asked Martha once they were done. "After all, Uncle Archie gave instructions for breakfast to be earlier this morning, so that we could go you-know-where for lunch."

Martha gave a laugh. "Why, miss, it's only six o'clock in the morning. The servants haven't had time yet to set up a fancy breakfast, an' Master Colin an' Lord Craven won't be up for another hour yet! I only came because...well, I wanted to spend some time alone with tha' before the day got too busy. Tha' doesn't mind, does tha', Miss Mary?"

"On the contrary, I'd like some company," Mary said, seating herself down at the table where her breakfast was set up. "Still though, this is strange..."

"I-I'm a strange girl, tha' said so tha'self many times, miss," Martha faltered.

"You must have something to tell me," Mary deciphered, forgetting her manners for the moment and pointing her fork at the maid.

"I, miss?"

"Martha, please tell me. Tell me or...or I won't eat," Mary decided, regretting that she should still have to pretend to act so spoiled now that she was sixteen. But, if there was no other way to get Martha to tell her, then what choice did she have?

"Oh miss, I...I'm sure I don't know much, but i-it's Dickon," Martha began, sitting down in her usual spot as well. "Y'see, he came here last night to talk to Lord Craven, an' left looking as though he'd lost a dear friend or something. So I stopped him and asked and...oh, how I wish I hadn't! He looked at me mighty queer and asked me not to tell anyone, especially tha', but I'm not good at keeping secrets, miss. I promised him though, but it's been haunting me ever since, an' I could see no reason why tha' shouldn't know, so I thought to tell tha'."

"Tell me what, Martha?" Mary pressed, growing both worried and impatient.

"H-he's leaving today, miss. It's all been arranged with Lord Craven an' he has to leave as soon as the carriage gets here, which might be during your party."

Mary's eyes widened. No! H-he was supposed to spend the entire day with her, Dickon was, and...if only just to keep the magic of the garden alive, he had to! If he left, Mary felt as if even that would be taken away from her too and...on her birthday it just couldn't happen! It couldn't, it couldn't...

"T-thank you for telling me, Martha," she managed to say, but she didn't mean any of it. In truth, she hated Martha for telling her and ruining her day or, better yet, she hated Dickon and her uncle for arranging to have him leave that day at all! No, it was even more than that. She hated the army for enlisting Dickon at all, hated the war in itself, which was the very heart of the problem! Somehow, everything always led to that—war, war, war. Ever since she was a sour, disagreeable child, Mary had forgotten what it was like to truly hate something, to hate it with all your heart. Well, now, six years later, again she knew what it felt like, and it sent a ripple of dark, negative energy right through her, entangling itself in the core of her being until she found herself grinding her teeth and wanting to tear at something.

And yet, just as she'd had nothing in her house in India after everyone had died to cholera, even now she had nothing. Nothing to tear at, nothing to break, nothing to attack and unleash her frustrations on because...none of these things would get rid of the war; none of these things would make the pain go away. Things were how they were and Mistress Mary Quite Contrary couldn't do anything about it.

 _Colin is right. Colin is right about everything_ , she thought, feeling the sorrow in her heart mount up as she realized the truth in everything she had told her. Somehow, until that moment, she had been trying to deny it to herself over and over again, but it was no use. Whether she liked it or not, whether the entire world suffered or not, the war was raging, and it was destroying all that was good in the world, even magic. But not hope—at least that would remain...wouldn't it?

"Nay miss, tha' mustn't cry! Think on happy things—we'll still all be celebrating your birthday! Now miss, please, please don't cry!" Martha begged.

Mary looked up, unaware that tears were forming in her eyes. In the past few days since Colin and Lord Craven's return, she had cried so many times and for so many different reasons—most of them related to the war—that she barely noticed when she was getting started. Somehow, like for many people more deeply impacted by the war than herself, crying had become second nature.

"You're right, Martha. I mustn't cry, and I mustn't think about it. Today is my birthday, after all, and I must make it a happy occasion, no matter what!" Taking deep breaths, Mary managed to calm herself down, growing steadily tired of throwing tantrums time and time again.

Wiping her tears away, Mary faced her maid with a newfound determination, even going as far as to force a smile on her face, despite not feeling abject happiness right at that moment. She intended to keep true to her vow and even force herself into happiness if necessary, and do all that was possible to make sure that Dickon left her in good spirits. He already had enough to worry about after all, so why add guilt to his sensitive conscience? Nay, she was not that cruel. And, perhaps, it would not be so bad.

For, as long as she had the garden, her friends and family beside her, and the knowledge that there was still magic in the world, despite the biggest war in history, she would not let it get her down!

* * *

 **-End Note-**

Well, that's all for now folks, although I'm sorry if the chapter hasn't been up to par with certain expectations. At first, I did want to make this chapter one about Mary's actual birthday, but then I realized that it deserves something better than rushed writing, so I went against it and plan on saving it for when I return. Again, I apologize for the rushed writing, but real life takes priority, as I'm sure everyone can agree.

For those who have supported this fanfiction thus far, once again, please continue to support it, as I will be back in a few short weeks. And for any new readers or those who have remained silent so far, please review, follow, or even favourite, as it will definitely still serve as encouragement for me.

Bon voyage for now, I suppose, and until we meet again!


	4. 4 - The Crickets

**\- A/N -**

Yes, I'm back everyone, and couldn't be happier at resuming my routine—whatever that may be. As I've said before, I'd like to apologize that this fanfiction (and my other fanfiction, if you've checked that out as well) have gotten off to a rocky start due to my vacation schedule, but I can now safely say that I'm back and should be updating regularly in the weeks to come. The only thing to watch out for is that I _do_ have university classes come September, so those may effect my updating schedule at times. Rest assured though, I will post notices for that beforehand—be sure to check my profile for any updates on updates (heehee).

Now, to those who have remained loyal and interested in this fanfiction, and to any new readers that have come during my absence, thank you so much for your support to the story, and I hope that you will be pleased to know that it is now continuing at full speed with this upcoming chapter.

Finally, let's celebrate Mary's birthday!

* * *

 **4** — **The Crickets**

Dickon was a boy who kept his promises, and so he fully intended to attend Mary's party in the garden for as long as possible and let her see him in good spirits, just like always. Of course, since this promise did not extend to his time away from Mary, there was nothing to prevent his unusually bitter mood when he woke up in the early morning and went out to tend to his mother's vegetable garden. Susan Sowerby, the only other person who could manage to wake up as early as her eldest son, followed him outside after getting dressed, fretting over him from a distance until she could not stand to see that disheartened expression on his face anymore.

"Tha' must cheer up," she encouraged, leaning down next to him as he hoed the soil. "Tha' mus'nt risk putting Mary in a bad way. Today is her birthday an' she will want to see tha' happy."

Dickon sighed, putting down the hoe and then sitting directly in the dirt, not caring if he got his trousers dirty. "I canna think on that now. I can only think of how I must leave soon."

"Not too soon, Dickon—there's still today."

"An' then...what, Mother? All my life, I've never asked that question, but I'm asking it now—what will happen next?"

Mrs. Sowerby looked up at the sky rather wistfully. "Whatever he wills to happen. Tha' mus'nt give up hope."

Dickon's eyes brightened just a bit at this, a familiar twinkle appearing, as he remembered that one word that brought its meaning to everyone—hope.

"That's what I must give Mary today, isn't it?" he asked after a few moments of silence.

His mother nodded. "Aye. She will need it to hold on to while tha' is away."

"Tha' too, Mother," Dickon replied, leaning up to plant a kiss on her cheek.

"Aye, lad. Me too."

* * *

In the morning, Mary spent the time with her uncle and Colin, pleased to be receiving good wishes and "Happy Birthdays" from all the servants that passed by. Martha's absence was notable, most likely because she was busy with the preparations for Mary's afternoon party in the garden, but other than that—and Mrs. Medlock's present of a book of courtesy, which Mary accepted but did not plan on reading—the day was going well.

It did help that she was distracted by presents from Uncle Archie and Colin, in any case. For instance, Lord Craven's present included enough dresses and gowns to start a new wardrobe, whereas Colin's was a bit more on the 'scientific' side.

"A microscope?" Mary clarified, scrunching up her nose in confusion as she circled the object, viewing it from different angles.

"Precisely," Colin said proudly, strutting opposite his cousin. "I bought it in the same place as my telescope, only at less expense, because microscopes are more common. Thankfully, the craftsman didn't mind plating it in silver, which I thought would be more fitting than gold, and more lightweight for you to transport."

"And...what does it do?" Mary asked, having no idea of what any one of Colin's devices were meant to do, without an explanation. She found them interesting and was amazed by them, of course, but that was only when Colin demonstrated how they were supposed to work—in such times, Mary found it exceedingly easy to picture him as a wise rajah, making discovery after discovery in the most practical ways. She, of course, was nowhere close to making such discoveries on her own. In many ways, the magic of the garden was really the only thing that she could call her own.

"Just as my telescope can see into space and the stars and planets above, a microscope magnifies smaller objects and makes them appear more clearly to the untrained eye," Colin explained. "For instance, since you love to garden so much, I thought that you might use it to inspect a leaf or a flower petal closely, or even one of your many jewels, if you'd like—there are amazing things that can be seen through the other end, believe me." And he peered up expectantly at Mary, for the first time waiting to judge her reaction.

Mary's face broke out into a smile as he mentioned gardening, as he knew it would, and she approached her present, turning over ideas in her mind of how she might experiment with it. "Well, I think that it would be interesting to see and compare the different ways that leaves and petals look every season. Do you think that it would help me to know what happens when flowers begin to dry up and die in fall, and why?"

"You certainly could—of course, you would need a book to be sure as well, both to keep your samples in and take notes and study, but that can wait until another time," Colin said proudly, the relief evident on his face that his cousin appreciated his present. Earlier on when buying it, his father had chided him and asked him to consider something else for a "proper young lady", but Colin had insisted upon the microscope, and would have been fairly disappointed if Mary had been. Thank goodness though, his judgement was correct.

"It's wonderful, Colin. Thank you," Mary said.

Colin waited to receive the kiss that Mary had bestowed upon his father after collecting her present from him, but none came. He frowned, until he realized that it must be because she was embarrassed to do so in the presence of others. Of course, as a niece to her old uncle, it was natural, but towards a young man her own age...

 _That must be it,_ he concluded, trying to be mature and not overthink things.

"Now then, shall we go to the garden?" Lord Craven suddenly asked, interpreting the discontented look in his son's eyes. For, while Mary could perhaps not decipher these small shifts and changes in Colin's attitude, he certainly could, and was determined to prevent any possible disruptions on Mary's birthday.

His suggestion taken at his word, the Cravens and Mary proceeded outside onto the Misselthwaite grounds, with strict instructions that the servants not follow them. By now, everyone was used to the family's regular excursions into the gardens alone, and so they did not question it anymore—not even Mrs. Medlock, although she was still quite the busybody.

Mary, who, as usual, possessed the key, hurried on ahead of her uncle, Colin directly at her heels.

 _Are they there yet?_ Mary wondered as she turned the corner, and, lo and behold, all of the invited Sowerbys—Martha, Dickon, and their mother—and Ben Weatherstaff were there waiting.

"Happy Birthday!" they chanted together, their Yorkshire accents providing Mary with comfort and warmth.

"Thank you all for coming to celebrate it with me," she greeted excitedly, slipping the key into the lock.

Once inside, no one wasted any time in setting up the table and chairs that they had brought, along with the many delicious foods prepared by Susan Sowerby and Martha, with a proper birthday cake right in the center of the embroidered tablecloth.

"It's beautiful," Mary said, smiling. Taking her seat at the head of the table, Colin to her left and Dickon to her right, she proceeded to serve herself with some of the many delightful dishes, her stomach becoming pleasantly full such as it never had when she was a child.

Colin, throughout the meal, kept a careful eye on both Dickon and Mary, feeling defensive and ready to step in if any mention of his leaving came about. As it was though, this was unnecessary, for Dickon acted just as he always had, as though they had all the time in the world together. And yet, as the sun changed positions in the sky and evening drew nearer and nearer, little by little that illusion started to shatter, until a rather wistful attitude took over the previously joyous party-goers, even as Ben played his fiddle and Dickon began to play his flute, just like the snake charmers in India that Mary loved so much. Colin himself had learned to play the piano, but, of course, that wasn't an instrument that one could play outdoors. So, instead, he sat alongside Mary on a blanket that had been spread out on the grass, watching as Dickon and Ben played and Lord Craven sat with the Sowerby women at the table.

"It really has been a perfect day," he commented. There was still more though, of course—Mary had yet to receive Ben and the others' presents. Colin was convinced that none of them could accord anything as elaborate as what he and his father had purchased for Mary, and so he was confident that his present would, in a sense, be the best one.

"Yes, it has," Mary replied, trying desperately to keep her mind on the happy memories that had been given to her that day rather than the unhappy departure that was soon to come.

"Sometimes, I feel as though it should always be like this," Colin sighed, looking up at the sky. "Will you come with me to the swing, Mary?"

Nodding as she remembered what the swing and tree meant to both her and her cousin, she stood and allowed Colin to escort her, out of the sight of the others, to what was arguably the most magical place in the garden. It was under that very tree that Colin had taken his first steps, where his parents had been so happy together, and where the cousins themselves had discovered the magic. The tree was very special to Mary for so many reasons, that even just sitting on its swing brought tears to her eyes, as she remembered the days that had been.

"This place never seems to change—like it's immortal," she commented, taking her seat.

Colin smiled, knowing what she meant—it was just like the time she had told him about the young god who had the whole universe in his throat, and how she believed that anything could be magic. Situating himself behind her, he gave Mary a push on the swing, sending her skyward, her hair blowing in the light breeze and her skirts fluttering. "It will always be this way. It will never change," he said encouragingly.

And somehow, Mary was able to believe it, as her view went from the grass and beautiful flowers to the trees and then the skies and the clouds. The sun, now in the west and shining to her left, cast light over her as it shone through the leaves and leaves, creating a beautiful pattern.

"Oh, Colin," she sighed, smiling. "I want to stay here forever and ever and ever."

"We can," Colin whispered, giving her another push before he let the swing slow down. Once it swung slowly enough, he stopped it and held it by the ropes, preferring to stand over Mary and gaze down at her instead of taking a seat himself. "We can always stay. I promise, we can come here every day—here there is still magic. This is one thing that not even...that nothing can ever touch."

"Yes," Mary breathed, wanting to believe it. The moment felt so special, so _right_ , that, even despite the circumstances, she gravitated towards it as though clinging to life. And, with Colin looking down at her in such a way, so comforting and understanding, she was even starting to—

"Miss Mary? Master Colin?" a familiar voice suddenly called out.

Both cousins startled from their gaze at each other, one embarrassed and the other annoyed at finding Dickon standing at the edge of the clearing, looking rather detached and uncomfortable.

"What is it, Dickon?" Colin asked, lifting his chin in a proud manner.

"I-it's time for presents," came the reply, his eyes moving quickly from Colin and then lingering on Mary. "Lord Craven an' th' others were asking where thee were."

"We'll be right along, Dickon," Mary said, hopping off the swing and walking towards him without hesitation. "Let's go." And she held out her arm suggestively, as though waiting for Dickon to take it and, with one last look at Colin as though asking for permission, Dickon did just that and escorted her back.

Colin ground his teeth, but followed along silently. This could potentially be the last time that Mary saw Dickon, _ever_ , and so he would allow it. But, in truth, he knew that just an evening spent with the young man wouldn't be enough for Mary, wouldn't be what she wanted. No, what she _wanted_ was for the war to end and for Dickon to come home again, and then she would be happy. But Colin? Couldn't _he_ make her happy, even while Dickon was away?

 _I'm going to try_ , Colin decided, remembering what he had said to Mary on a fateful day in their childhood. Someday, he would...

* * *

Throughout time, it has always been unfortunate that all good things must come to an end, but still true, and prominent for Mary once evening came round and a carriage came to Misselthwaite to drive Dickon to town. For her further presents, Mary had received a packet of flower seeds from Ben Weatherstaff, a thick wool dress for winter from Martha and her mother, and, most preciously of all, a painted wooden carving of her favourite flower, a lily, from Dickon, that she could wind a ribbon through and tie round her neck. But she would have traded all of these presents and much more for the simple option of having Dickon remain, yet, it was not to be.

Having unanimously and silently decided to leave the two alone to talk things over before Dickon left for good, his last goodbye, the Cravens, Ben, and the Sowerbys chose to head towards Misselthwaite Manor whilst Mary and Dickon remained in the garden. They stood apart from one another, each one uncertain of what to say, hardly even making eye contact.

It was clear that Mary was distraught though, now that the time had finally come, and Dickon's kindly nature would not allow him to remain silent. Taking a bold step, he reached out and touched Mary's shoulder in comfort. To his surprise however, she seemed to have waited for the opportunity, and lept at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Dickon stumbled backward before regaining his balance, and glanced down in surprise at what Mary was doing. Goodness, did she realize how inappropriate this was? And yet, after feeling the warmth of her tears on his shoulder, Dickon couldn't bring himself to push her away and wrapped his arms around her as well. He heard Mary hitch a breath as he did so, but tried to ignore this, instead taking note of the fact that she was still crying.

"There, there, Miss Mary. I won't be gone long—tha' knows I won't."

Mary trembled, shaking her head slightly. "Y-you can't know that, Dickon. No one knows what's happening, no one knows what's _going_ to happen. I-I wanted so much for this day to be perfect, and I-I tried to make it so, but..." At this, she lifted her head up and face him, her cheeks tear-stained and her eyes red and puffy. "I can't be happy when you're leaving. I just can't. Please... _stay_ , Dickon."

Dickon swallowed, his face contorting into an expression of pain, the first that Mary had ever seen. It just didn't suit his friendly and happy nature at all, and only further served to confirm how things really were changing.

"I can't, lass," he breathed, moving his hand up to brush the tears away from Mary's eyes as they spilled forth, one by one. "I want to stay with tha', in th' garden an' on th' moor an' with th' animals, but I can't. It isn't possible."

Mary sniffed. "I hate what isn't possible, Dickon. I've heard that far too much. The war, i-it's ruining everything. I don't...I don't even know if I'll ever see you again!"

This grim possibility brought about yet more tears from her, along with some of the most miserable sobs that Dickon had ever heard. Why, Mary cried with the same amount of pain as any person or animal he'd seen who was physically ailing—did his departure hurt her that much?

"Listen to me, lass," he said, cupping her cheek in his hand, surprised at the boldness of his own actions and yet willing himself into them, wanting her to know that nothing else mattered but what he was going to say to her. "No matter what, I will always find a way back to tha'. Both th' magic of th' garden an' th' magic that tha' has brought here will be with me, an' I know that it will bring me back. I _will_ come back, Mary, an' then I'll be here to remain. I promise."

Mary knew that when Dickon made a promise, he truly meant it and would never break it, and yet...

"This isn't under your control. No one can control what's going on," she sighed, calming down enough to stop crying, but still equally worried and pained.

Dickon took in a deep breath and then stared up at the darkening sky. This gave him a brief moment of reflection, to gather his thoughts and work with what he knew, until finally, he found the source of hope that he'd been looking to give Mary all day.

"Listen," he instructed, which Mary did, only to glance at him confusedly.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Does tha' not hear them?" Dickon breathed, closing his eyes and looking wholly serene for the first time that day. "They're singing for all to hear."

Mary listened again, trying to hear what Dickon did, but could only decipher one sound: the chirps of crickets.

"Yes, that's it," Dickon agreed, with the same enthusiasm as though he was congratulating a symphony. "An' it's the most beautiful sound in the world, 'cause it's everywhere. On th' moor or in th' fields or in any country in th' world, there are crickets. They are always there, singing even in times of war, as though they don't mind it. If everyone was like a cricket, then we'd all be singing th' same song everyday, an' we'd all get along. But we _are_ th' same like crickets, Mary, because we all want th' same thing: peace. You an' I aren't th' only ones who want this war to end, an' that is why it _will_ end someday. An' when it does, I'll be back, because even crickets must return home, an' th' moor will always be my home. I promise, Mary, I _will_ return."

Mary paused and listened, her heart growing fuller the more she listened to the crickets and reflected on what Dickon had said. If...if everyone _did_ want peace, then surely there was a way to achieve it and, once they did, then hopefully the world would have learned their lesson never to have war again. It _was_ possible, and with both a common desire and the magic in the world to help, then...Dickon could come home.

"Oh, do be careful, Dickon!" Mary exclaimed, embracing him once more. "And write to me—please write. One day, when you're back, then we'll look back on all this and laugh, I know we will!"

Dickon smiled. "I'm sure we will. Goodbye, Mary."

"This isn't a farewell," Mary insisted, pulling back and settling only for a hold on Dickon's head. "This is just until a later time—soon."

And, taking in her beauty and her hope and the magic all around her, Dickon believed it too. "Aye, soon."

* * *

 **\- End Note -**

Now, I know, I know, there's a lot of fluff and somewhat stereotypical goodbyes in this chapter, but there is a method to my madness. Now, this would be dramatic and whatnot if this was Dickon and Mary's last time meeting or maybe only resuming seeing each other once the war's over but, just so you know now, Mary will be seeing Dickon _during_ the war. As a matter of fact, just as a heads-up and sort of small spoiler, both Colin and Mary will be involved in the war effort, in ways which I will explain later. I know that some people may already be questioning how they may contribute, seeing as they're both only sixteen, but let's just say that not everything needs a detailed explanation—suffice to guess that they will have forged documents or the like, which would have been way easier to do in the past than it is today.

In any case, this is the longest chapter to date, but I believe that everyone deserves it after almost a month of patience. Thank you once again to those readers who have remained loyal and, to any new readers, please make yourselves known and either review, follow, or favourite to show your support to the story. Thank you and so, until the next chapter, adieu.


	5. 5 - There Is Still Magic

**\- A/N -**

Thank you so much, once again, to everyone who's continued to support this story. The last chapter wasn't the most happy one to get through, seeing as it consisted of the unfortunate separation of Dickon and Mary, but it was necessary and didn't come as a surprise to anyone, I'm sure. As for this next chapter, it will be a sort of preparation/transition chapter that will be a combination of the aftermath of Dickon's departure and plans made for the future of our remaining two characters—Colin and Mary.

For anyone who's interested on how Dickon's doing, I would like to state now, at the earliest opportunity, that I will not be writing any chapters based solely on his own experiences in the army. Not so much because I want to spare the readers any war-related details or the like, but because I feel that, since Dickon is really not suited to a violent and chaotic lifestyle, he would be very out of place on the battlefield, and that would be depressing in itself. To be certain, the war will mark him—it would be unrealistic if it didn't—but I don't want it to mark the readers as much. If anyone _really_ objects to this, I can refer to flashbacks in some parts of the story, if it is requested, but, since it doesn't have to play a central part of the story, for now I won't include it.

Other than that, once again, I hope you enjoy the chapter.

* * *

 **5** — **There Is Still Magic**

The days following Dickon's departure passed by in a blur for Mary, who had been unable to focus on anything, other than the sound of crickets, perhaps, since the day she had last seen him. Of course, no one else took to the news much better than she did, particularly in the Sowerby household, but that didn't change the fact that the Lennox girl was the most openly heartbroken. For Colin and Lord Craven, who spent the most time around her and cared the most for her, this was an unhappy development, but, so long as she managed to get past it, they reasoned, it was best not to intervene for now. Indeed, even Colin kept his distance, despite not wanting to.

But then, after almost two weeks of moping about and even neglecting to visit the garden, just as the leaves began to change colour, Colin began to change his attitude towards his cousin's mental state. Dickon was special to her, he knew, and he also knew that his departure was a sad, heartbreaking event, and yet, by now, shouldn't Mary have gotten used to it as a reality, at least?

 _"She's sixteen years old and much better than this. I must remind her what it is to be happy, to live! Why should the war have to change everything?!"_ Colin had complained to his father, who had primarily objected to Colin's proposal of getting Mary away from Misselthwaite, away from the garden and the moor and everything that reminded her of Dickon.

Remembering his father's reluctant response granting him permission to do as he pleased, Colin began to question himself on how best to approach the subject with Mary, whom he was now heading to meet for tea in her room. Having specially ordered Mary's favourites to be brought up, and then requested that they be left alone to speak in private, the setting for what he had planned was right, although it would take more than a fair part of Mary's cooperation if his attempt to make her feel better was going to work.

 _For many years, Dickon's been the whole world to her, just as she has been to me,_ Colin thought. _Now is the time for her to see that there are other things, beautiful things out there in the world, and that she doesn't need to rely on Dickon to make magic._ I _can make magic too..._

Knocking on Mary's door, he was greeted with a wistfully cheerful Martha, who gave a curtsy and then hurried past him to give the two cousins their privacy.

"Hello, Colin," Mary acknowledged, more out of politeness than happiness to see him there. Nothing could make her happy—absolutely nothing, until Dickon came home. Mary had always known that the boy meant a lot to her, and yet, after seeing what it was like with having him gone for even a short time, she began to suspect that maybe he meant more than she had previously thought.

Colin put on his best smile as he approached her and took a seat beside her on the sofa. "Good afternoon, Mary," he greeted. "Care for some tea?" It was not in his habit to be the one to actually serve the tea, but today would be an exception.

Mary shook her head. "It's alright, I'll get it." And she reached to serve it herself, placing Colin's usual cream in the cup before adding cream and sugar to her own. "How has your day been?" she asked, preferring to hear him talk rather than say too much herself.

Colin kept up his smile, glad for the excuse to engage in conversation rather than force too much on Mary. "Actually, I've been making plans," he explained.

Mary blinked curiously. "Oh?"

"Yes, do you remember how I've always wanted to go to northern Scotland to see the Northern Lights? Well, this winter I have decided to go, but these things need to be planned out ahead of time. It is already nearing the middle of September now, so I thought that...well, perhaps you might help me with my plans."

Mary's interest was definitely piqued, but regardless, Colin's suggestion didn't exactly lift her spirits. "How can I help?" she asked, making an effort to remain positive.

"My telescope, for one thing, will be a great help in analyzing the sky during that time. I intend to make great discoveries," Colin explained, getting excited despite himself. "I want you to be my assistant, the only one I can trust to tend to my books and other materials. Aside from which, I believe that we could both find our own...magic up there, Mary, and I want you to be with me."

As marvelous as it all sounded, for once Mary wasn't content to bury her head in the sand and go along with Colin's wild schemes. Because, much as she felt that getting some distance from Misselthwaite might be just the thing for her—as advised by Martha, Susan Sowerby, and even Mrs. Medlock—she felt as though it would also be a betrayal of Dickon. After all, how would he feel, once he came back, knowing that Mary had been off on a glorious vacation while he was on a battlefield going through God only knew what. How on earth could she ever even consider abandoning him like that?!

"Now is not the time for vacations, Colin," she responded calmly. "There is a war going on, and...as you have said, we cannot ignore it. It is a reality."

Colin tried to keep from gritting his teeth. So, when _he_ spoke it to her, she wouldn't listen, but as soon as _Dickon_ said it, she suddenly took notice of it? The raw, dark feeling in his chest that had continued to gnaw at him and grow within him only intensified in its power, making the Young Master Craven think, for just a second, that he was _happy_ that Dickon had gone.

 _No. I-I don't mean that,_ Colin thought, horrified at himself, and yet unable to deny the hint of truth that lurked behind his previous thought.

"Of course, you're right, Mary, but...that doesn't mean that we should give up everything pleasant, does it?" he asked, trying to appear as though he was ready for a compromise.

Mary shook her head, trying to be reasonable as well. The truth was, now that Dickon was gone, Colin was the only companion that she had left and...well, being around her cousin always made her feel better, so perhaps, if he was willing, she could let him comfort her and take her mind away from more troubling matters. It wouldn't be an abandonment of Dickon or anything—just...an opportunity for her to feel better.

"No, it doesn't. Perhaps we might start off with something more simple than planning a trip like that? For instance...you could instruct me on how to use my microscope, or we could experiment with your telescope here? We haven't really gotten around to either of those things yet."

Colin smiled. Well, it was a start, and that was more than he had hoped for after just one conversation. "Excellent suggestions, Mary. I think that, seeing as it's daytime, we could go out onto the moor and gather samples to inspect with your microscope—it won't help to use the telescope until nightfall."

Nodding, Mary stood up. "Of course! Where shall we go to get samples?" And while it was obvious that she was thinking of one place in particular, the fact that she didn't mention it suggested to Colin that perhaps she wanted to avoid it. That being said, Colin himself was convinced that they couldn't avoid the garden forever, and was set on Mary realizing likewise. After all...

"There is still magic there, Mary. We might go to the garden," he said, without stopping to think of the consequences.

Immediately, Mary's mood darkened. Yes, she still loved the garden as much as ever, but, without Dickon there...

"Colin," she began, but then her cousin cut her off.

"Mary, you must remember that it isn't Dickon that brought the magic there. When you discovered the garden yourself for the first time, there was still magic, and that was before you'd even met Dickon. Please...you have to let the magic back into your life, even if he isn't here."

Mary bit her lip, hesitant. "I know all that, but...it just isn't the same without Dickon, Colin! How can it be for you?"

Colin shrugged, appearing more torn about it than he really was. In truth, he knew that he owed Dickon a lot, but lately, as he realized just how much more cultured, intelligent, scientific, and overall superior he was to Dickon in the ways of the world, he just couldn't identify with the simple country boy anymore. Also, though it irked him to admit, he was even beginning to feel bothered by the attention that Mary kept giving Dickon, over and over again ever since they had been children. Of course, Colin knew that he could never break the bond between them, as it had been formed before he had ever known Mary, but at the very least, he wanted to see that she cared for him too.

"The world doesn't start and end just because of one person!" he exclaimed, forgetting for a moment just whom he was addressing. Noticing Mary rear back in surprise, he softened his expression and then reached out for her, surprised when she actually let him touch her. Pulling her close to him, Colin gave her a chaste hug, refusing to meet her gaze. "Mary...he's not gone forever, you know that. And yes, war does terrible things to this world, but that's no indication of the world ending or anything. Until he returns, we must keep our hopes alive and not relinquish our ties to magic. Let me put it this way: do you think Dickon would be happy to see you as you are now?" And while it pained him to have to use the young man as a reference point to get Mary to come to her senses, it might be the only way in which she would see reason.

Colin felt her stiffen in his arms, then take a few calm breaths, reflecting on what he had said, before finally looking up at him with the first breath of life that he had witnessed in her for a long time.

"Let's go to the garden," she said.

That was all he wanted to hear.

* * *

 **\- End Note -**

I am so sorry for both the short length and the late update on this chapter, but a lot of things have been distracting from my writing recently, and so...let's just say that it's a harder time to get updates like this in. Still though, I wanted to have something to post this week, and something is better than nothing, right? This chapter, as I've stated, is just a transaction chapter, and a bit of fluff for Mary and Colin. As soon as I had Mary pegged down as becoming depressed over Dickon's going away, I needed something to shake her out of it, and this will more or less signal a healing process for the Lennox girl, throughout the chapters.

The next few chapters, just as a heads-up, will focus mainly on Colin and Mary. There will probably be a lot of fluff and "cute" moments, so be prepared for that. Oh, don't worry, the war details and hardships will be coming along as well, but I'd like to give readers a "calm before the storm", so to speak. I think that small moments like this will be appreciated, given the chapters to come.

Just as a heads-up, the next chapter might also be late, but I can guarantee that it'll be longer and more detailed than this one, with a few more devices to move the plot forward. So, once again, I apologize for the lack of many things in this chapter, and hope that everyone can hang on for better chapters in the future.


	6. 6 - The Best Time for 'Friendship'

**\- A/N -**

The continuous support from readers for this story really helps to keep it going, believe it or not. I know that recent times have been difficult with updates and on the content of the story as well but, with that in mind, I have an announcement to make:

 _Update: From now on, all updates have been changed from every Thursday to every other Thursday_ _._

That being said, this is only a temporary change until times get less hectic, but hopefully it won't make much of a difference, as long as you know that updates _are_ still coming. The only reason I'm making this official change is because it seems easier than making excuses for having it a few days late every time. Again, I beg your indulgence on this, and hope that we can still progress in the story to what I have planned for it. (By the way, this update is _super_ late because of a technical issue, which, thankfully, has been resolved with the purchase of a new laptop.)

Other than all that though, please enjoy this next chapter.

* * *

 **6** — **The Best Time for 'Friendship'**

Colin had to admit that he was prepared for a bit more of a fight on his cousin's behalf, given how reluctant she'd been to listen to him in the past, but he wasn't complaining when, for once, she immediately complied to his suggestion. Packing up everything he thought they might need—including Mary's microscope, a book on the study of plants, and refreshments in case they got hungry—he hastily ushered Mary out of the house before she might change her mind. Once outside though, for the first time in days, it was evident that the outing was doing Mary some good.

For, as she looked about her and took in the early fall colours, still mixed with the green of summer, her face lit up with a newfound hope in her eyes that had remained dormant since Dickon's departure. Colin was pleased to see her regain some of her usual expression, and kept up his part of the magic by continuing to talk to her and remark on all the small yet beautiful things around them.

"The moor in autumn is just as charming as the moor in spring and summer," he recited. "Wouldn't you say, Mary? And oh, look! The sparrows are starting to fly south for the winter. I've read about how it is in warmer climates, and it seems like the ideal paradise for any animal that can't stand the cold. Should you like to go someplace warmer someday, Mary? Italy, or even Egypt is much warmer than England. I plan to go to see the Great Pyramids someday myself, and maybe investigate and discover something..." And so on and so forth.

As for Mary, she too was trying her hardest to focus on happy things and assure Colin that all of his efforts were not going to waste.

"Yes, indeed, it is all very lovely," she agreed, listening as he described each delicate detail, showcasing enthusiasm for nature that...usually Dickon would show more naturally, but made a fitting change to Colin, regardless.

Once they arrived in the garden, it was Colin who opened the door and led the way inside, setting things up for the picnic they intended to have before finally asking Mary on what plants she wanted to analyze first. For the Lennox girl, who had usually looked upon all things in the garden as objects of beauty and magic, studying them from a scientific perspective was certainly a new experience. By the end of the afternoon, after collecting fifteen different leaf samples and almost double that many petals, she had forgotten the difference between the two though, as they seemed to be one and the same, based on how Colin described everything.

"I never knew that something so small could still be wick," Mary commented, holding up their latest find, a bright red leaf, to the light. She had already examined it under the microscope and determined the different shapes and interesting assortment of cells that, even though they were not in motion as Colin described the "atoms" would be, were very interesting to observe.

"You see, Mary? Things have not really changed," Colin prompted, hoping to encourage his cousin to voice the same positive thoughts. Maybe he was moving a bit faster than he should've, but he couldn't help it—he was impatient for Mary to get back to the way she always was, that strong and loving girl who had helped him get well all those years ago.

"You're right; they haven't," Mary agreed, trying to make herself belief it as well.

"So then, do you think we shall come here again tomorrow?"

"Oh, everyday, Colin, everyday!" she said enthusiastically, standing up and looking at everything around her, this time with as much of a scientific eye as an artistic and childish one. There was a wonder in everything, different than the wonder that she was used to with Dickon, and Mary wanted to explore it, see where it would take her. If this was what Colin had discovered to understand in even the simplest things, then, if she understood it, perhaps it wouldn't be bad to follow it as well. Turning to him, she smiled, and spread her arms out wide, indicating the world around them. "We can study this and explore it everyday! Oh, Colin, I've wasted so much time already!"

Colin took a few steps toward her, stretching out his own hand and intertwining his fingers with hers. "There is always time, Mary. After all, if not with your microscope, then with my telescope we can see wondrous things. There are still stars in winter, after all."

Beaming at the thought, Mary looked up at the late afternoon sky, clear and sunny, indicating that the sky would be clear that night as well—a perfect night for stargazing.

"Do you think that we could go...tonight, Colin?" she asked. "To see stars through your telescope, I mean?"

Colin shrugged. "Well, the truth is, I've just barely finished reading through the manual. Before being able to properly study stars, I still have to read a book explaining them, their positions and the different constellations, so it will be a while yet before I can make an accurate study of them."

"Oh." There was no disguising Mary's disappointment.

"B-but...we can look tonight just for fun, if that's what you had in mind."

Her responding smile was small, but still better than no smile at all. "Alright, Colin."

* * *

Once inside, the cousins chose to go their separate ways, each to their own room to reflect over the day's grand change of mood, Mary simply filled with optimism, and Colin secretly quite proud of what he considered to be an accomplishment. After all, since the beginning, he had gone into the fight like a scared lamb with no expectation for survival, only to come out a lion with the prey he had desired. In many ways, he felt quite satisfied, and couldn't wait for everyone else to witness the results at dinner, when they would see Mary's change for themselves.

Then, of course, there was his private satisfaction as well: that it was only _he_ who had been able to change Mary's attitude since Dickon's departure. That was a hope in itself.

Whilst dressing in his room for dinner, none other than his father came to see him, no doubt to inquire as to what his son had been up to that day. Lord Craven, after years of being absent from his son's life, had made up for it in full in the years past, making it a point to spend at least an hour or so every day talking to Colin and discussing all manner of things about the day's events, or even more intellectual subjects. He had become Colin's tutor more than all of the others combined, and Colin was always delighted to speak to him. Sometimes, he wagered that his father knew more than he let on and simply asked his son certain questions so as to humor him, but was otherwise very satisfied to listen. Colin's train of thought, as his father had determined long ago, certainly had the makings of genius behind it.

"Good evening," he greeted, taking a seat near the hearth.

"Hello, father," Colin replied, adjusting his cravat.

"I see that you have been out today—in the garden?" Lord Craven prompted, once he was certain that they were alone.

Colin nodded. "Yes, father. With Mary."

His eyes widening, albeit slightly, Lord Craven nodded. "Indeed. So then, has she finally regained her senses? The dear child was starting to worry me earlier on..."

"Yes, father. Or...at least for now." Dickon's departure no doubt left more of a mark on her than she was willing to admit, so Colin wasn't going to chance it yet that she had completely gotten over it. One day had done wonders, no doubt, but it was far too soon to hope for a permanent change.

Understanding, his father nodded yet again. "I see. Still though, it is remarkable that Mary should go back to the garden at all—I myself stayed out of it for ten years since..." But here, he cut off, never ready to openly discuss his wife's death. Since Colin understood the meaning behind it anyway, no more needed to be elaborated on that grim subject.

"I know, but Mary has always been stronger than that. I think that maybe I'm just the extra push that was needed to help her regain that strength and be herself again. I'm only glad that I managed to do it this early."

"You certainly are good support for her, my boy," Lord Craven observed. "Perhaps I have never told you this, but I have sensed recently that...in many ways, you are far more mature than her, despite being the same age. Where Mary is a reluctant child, still not quite ready to grow up and face the world for what it is, you take a step back and look at things calmly, clearly. That is a quality that I have told you many times will help you in this world, a quality that many people wish to have. But, my boy, unfortunately, it is impossible to share such qualities, and so you can only act as support instead of helping her attain what she lacks."

"I suppose so," Colin sighed, taking a seat across from his father, relaxing at last now that he was fully dressed and ready for dinner. "But that doesn't change how I feel about the matter. Father, I _like_ some of Mary's childish qualities, even if they mean that she hasn't changed much since coming here. Physically, yes, but this moor has a certain timeless quality to it, and I can't help but feel that Mary's caught up in it. Goodness knows that Dickon hasn't changed at all since the first day I met him. I suppose that, even if I were to see him in an army uniform or something, he will still be the same boy with a crow on his shoulder, a lamb in his arms, and a fox by his feet that I met all those years ago from my wheelchair. It's a rather sad thought, I suppose, but there's nothing we can do to change them." And it was _only_ on this topic that Colin would openly admit any similarity between Mary and Dickon, and mainly because they had an equal hand in his getting well.

But Lord Craven knew better, and stepped in.

"My boy, it seems to me that you are already trying to change Mary from the way she was. Not only with her childish fancies, but with her attitude towards _others_ as well."

"Pardon?" Colin blinked.

Lord Craven gave a small smile. "I know how it is, to sometimes wish to change those you love. For many years, when I knew about you in that bed, never moving, unable to walk, perhaps about to die every day or develop a lump like mine—I would have given anything to change you. But, as you know, I was unable to, and it was Mary who managed to do it. She was your cure, Colin, and now you are trying to be hers. You are trying to make her see the world for what it is, even in these dark times and, now, to make her forget all of its unpleasantness, all that you don't want her to remember."

"Just what do you mean by that?"

Sighing, his father stood up, preparing to leave. "This is an ideal time for friendship, my boy, and I will support you, but do not forget how special a friend Dickon was to Mary as well—he may always come back."

Colin stood up as well, a bit more hastily. "Of course he will! What makes you think that I don't want him to?"

"I'm a man, Colin. I understand. But I'm afraid that Mary never can if you push her too far, and so, try to do things delicately. All my life, that's the only way I've ever thought women could be treated: delicately. And now look where that's gotten me." Then, giving a sad little smile, Lord Craven departed his son's room, leaving him in confusion and the re-emergence of that dark feeling in the middle of his chest.

Perhaps now though, he had a name for it: Jealousy.

* * *

 **\- End Note -**

This update has taken the longest time to get through, even if it isn't the most worth-it one, depending on how you consider it. Partly, I feel as though I should apologize to everyone for this, and yet, at the same time, I feel as though it's also understandable, seeing as we don't control what happens to us and can't always help it when life throws us for a loop. All in all, I'm just glad that I managed to get this update out at all, and hope that it's slightly better than the last one. I'm more or less trying to gather up fragments from where I left off before my vacation, because ever since I've gotten back, it's been one major life event after another. I hope that smaller things like this chapter are still appreciated in times like that though, for everyone.

Reviews, follows, and even favourites, are, as always, appreciated. Thank you very much to everyone, and I hope to get another chapter out there soon!


	7. 7 - Further Steps

**\- A/N -**

Finally hit 1000 views! (It's a little bit exciting, to be honest.)

It's good to see that there are still people who are reading and enjoying this story, so I am deeply grateful to those who stuck around. Updates, as previously mentioned, will be rough, but I'm going to try my best to get them out there, no matter what. Thank you to everyone who's understanding regarding that.

Ok, in this chapter, I think we'll see a little more progress between the two cousins...

* * *

 **7 - Further Steps**

Afterwards, Colin had a good chance to think on what his father had told him, as well as on the feeling that followed that discussion, but not for long, as Mary was soon due to be in his room so that they could take out the telescope and start viewing stars.

His conclusion was this though: yes, perhaps he was jealous of Dickon, but surely not without reason. After all, there were several things in his favor that ought to bring Mary closer to him than the moor boy: for one thing, Mary was his cousin, a blood relative; for another thing, ever since Mary had first taught him how to walk, because they lived in the same house he was able to see her more often; and lastly, he and Mary were of the same breeding, the same social class, so naturally, they had more things in common.

All of these things pointed to why they _should_ be closer than Mary was with Dickon, and thus, the source of Colin's chagrin because it was not so. He understood that the bond that Mary and Dickon had formed before he even knew Mary, in which Dickon made up such an essential part of Mary helping the garden grow, could never be broken, but at the same time, the distance now between them should weaken that bond.

 _It seems almost as though I do not want for Dickon to return,_ Colin reflected, shocked that he could have such a thought and doubly as appalled that it could be true. Because, after all, if he took Mary out of consideration, even for a moment, when shouldn't the obvious truth be that Dickon was his friend too, that Dickon had helped him to walk as well, and that he and Dickon ought to have a close relationship because of it? Really, most of these negative emotions towards the Sowerby boy were unprecedented, in that case.

But, since that argument was only significant if he removed Mary from the picture, then it wasn't valid at all, because both he and Dickon looked to Mary as the connecting point between the three of them—otherwise, wouldn't they have spent more time together while Mary was away?

 _She is the only thing that matters to either of us, all in all,_ Colin concluded, and not a moment too soon, as just then, he heard a knock on his door, followed by the entrance of none other than his radiant cousin, dressed in the same lovely lavender dress that she had worn to dinner.

"Am I too early?" she asked, confused to see Colin standing near the fire, lost in thought, and with his telescope tucked aside near his bed.

Brightening, Colin glided forward and escorted her to a seat. "Not at all, cousin, but there are certain things that I think we ought to discuss first before going out."

Mary nodded, folding her hands patiently on her lap. After thinking it over, she decided that, since Colin had put up with her own whims for so long, maybe it was about time for her to start returning the favor again, just as she had when they first met and Colin was still a supposedly-crippled boy in bed. Luckily, most of Colin's whims were purely scientific anyway, so it wouldn't be trying her patience too much to hear him prattle on and on about his experiments, if he wanted to. Aside from which, it would give her a purpose, something to do, and keep her mind off of other things. And people...

"Very well, what are they?" she asked.

Colin took a seat next to her instead of going and fetching his telescope, feeling the need to be near her, if only to keep his thoughts in check. The longer he felt her absence, it seemed, the more wayward his thought process got. "Well, to start, do you remember that I mentioned that there are a lot of things that need to be researched before actively studying the cosmos?" he prompted, hoping to get a discussion going.

Mary nodded. "Yes, I remember—you mentioned it only earlier today, after all. What about it?"

"Oh! Right, I did." Colin cleared his throat. "To be precise, these things are not mandatory to research before viewing stars, as long as you have already studied the novel, but, I've been thinking, maybe it wouldn't really be beneficial to simple stargaze without knowing what we're looking at. Do you see what I mean?"

"So...you changed your mind about viewing the stars tonight?"

"N-no, not at all!" her cousin insisted, holding up his hands defensively. "More like, well...Mary, if you would..."

"Yes?"

"Do research...with me?"

Mary blinked. "Me... _research_?" she repeated.

Colin nodded eagerly. "Yes. I know that it's not what you're used to, but it could really be helpful to you as well, I should think. Aside from which, two people working together would be faster than my working alone, so I would really appreciate your help." _Because, after all, if you're around, then nothing can distract me from my work. It would help more if you were near me than if you were far away from me, because then my thoughts should wander to you, regardless._

After a moment's consideration, a smile broke out on Mary's face. "If I can be of help to you, and learn many new things in the process, I think the situation is quite agreeable. Colin, you're quite clever to have thought of it," she replied happily.

Colin blushed at the last part of what she said—the compliment towards his intelligence. "Well, you could say it like that, I suppose," he admitted bashfully.

"Then, let us get started," Mary announced, clapping her hands together. "First, the research, and then we can view the stars. Now that you mention it, perhaps that is the best option."

"I'm glad you think so," Colin replied, smiling. Finally, Mary was starting to see things his way and, if he kept this up, maybe soon he would be able to set in motion other thoughts to her mind, thoughts that should make both of them quite happy in the future, all the while keeping a certain other boy out of the picture.

* * *

\- **End Note -**

This is by far the shortest chapter I have written so far, but I badly wanted to get something out there, even though it's already two days late. This was back to school week, and so...yeah, no further explanations needed, I'm sure. Hopefully, things will get settled down in the next two weeks, after which, finally, I can continue updating with better content. Until then, I beg your patience on this.


End file.
